Une Affaire

What he was about to do, was against everything he stood for. He was married, with three children. The woman who was presently unbuttoning his robes was certainly not his wife, though his heart ached for her to be. Merlin, he loved her. It pained him every day to see her come with her husband. Then again, she often told him it was no easier for her.

No one suspected a thing.

For years, they had been using contraceptive spells to prevent pregnancy, to prevent the very thing both of them knew in their heart of hearts was what they wanted. They wanted each other, and neither knew it wouldn't happen. Their affair had started out as an `accident'; considered something that they would surely never happen again. And then, he came to her the morning after a particular nasty row with his wife. After the third time, they had accepted the fact that this arrangement was most certainly not an accident. They were having an affair, and he wanted to end it, to pursue a romance.

She let out the breath she was holding as he took control and turned her over and they slid on top of her desk as he struggled to get his tie off his neck- his shirt off his shoulders. She was like a drug to him, and until he could have her all to himself, he could never be satisfied. Her fingers clasped around his neck and brought his moist lips down on top of hers. She craved him. To hell with Ron and Ginny. In this room, they did not exist. She no longer cared. She was in love with this man who held her so lovingly, stroked her so tenderly, and made love to her so wonderfully.

She felt her skirt slide down her hips, and the sound of her knickers ripping filled the air.

“That's the second time this week,” she whispered breathlessly.

“I'll buy you another,” he responded as he temporarily pulled away from her to remove his trousers.

“That's the second time this week you've said that,” she laughed as he removed the rest of his clothing, and took a moment to take in the sight of her, and smiled.

“I love you,” he whispered as he picked her up off the desk and carried her to the couch, which had been marked unknowingly several times as their own.

“I love you too, Harry,” she moaned as he slid his length inside of her. “Merlin knows I love you…”

That was all the incentive he needed. His lips made contact with every inch of her face as his hips constantly came in contact with hers, bringing them closer and closer to a feeling which was beyond words to both of them. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he made a noise in the back of his throat. She knew he was coming close to the edge.

“HARRY!” She cried as he buried himself deep inside of her, releasing his seed, which would do her more harm than good.

This was always his favourite moment. Holding her in his arms, while she slept. She always slept after they made love. It was never for long, she always wanted to have the memories. The couch was cramped, and they stuck to it, but it was theirs. No one knew what went on in her office after hours, during their lunch meetings. Not her husband, not his wife, none of their children, no one. They didn't intend to keep it that way.

x-x-x-x-x-x

She sounded frantic on the phone. He told Ginny that there was an issue at the Ministry, and had to leave right away. He didn't feel guilty. He was only half lying. They were to meet in his office. He didn't even change. He was in his pyjama pants and a ratty old sweater from his auror training. He had been going over case files when she called, and told her to meet her immediately in his office. And so he had shouted to Ginny he had to go to work for an emergency, and not to wait up.

She looked positively terrified when he stumbled into his office. She was sitting on his desk, face void of make up, in her night things.

“Hermione, what is it?” he asked as she bolted into his arms.

“I'm p-p-pregnant.” She whispered into his chest. She couldn't bear to look at his face.

“Are you sure?” he asked immediately. He couldn't be happy. Not until he knew…

“It's yours,” she blurted out, “I've been denying Ronald for months. He's barely home anyway, being a dispatch auror- there's no bloody way it could be his. I'd be ready to go into labour if it was!”

“Oh Merlin,” he whispered, stepping away from her and sank down into his chair. “I thought we-”

“I thought we did too. But it doesn't always work, we could have missed it,” she said desperately.

He couldn't say anything. He was ecstatic beyond belief. And this baby… It was going to be his downfall, and his rise.

“SAY SOMETHING!” She shouted, tears streaming down her face.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY, HERMIONE? MARRY ME? IF YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED, WE'RE BOTH ALREADY FUCKING MARRIED!” He shouted back, grabbing her left hand with his, and forcing it in front of her face, where the two non identical bands were evidently seen. “I WANT THIS! I'VE WANTED THIS FOR YEARS, HERMIONE!” Harry pulled away from her and sank down into his chair and put his head in his hands. “I'm leaving her; I hope you'll be leaving him, too.”

“The children, Harry…”

“Don't talk to me about my children. I'm talking about OUR child.”

“What about my children, Harry?”

“I DON'T KNOW!” He roared, “I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE HELL I'M DOING, ALRIGHT? I DON'T KNOW!”

Her gaze softened as she watched his thin body rack with his sobs. She had barely ever seen him cry. Even though she would never voice it, she didn't know either. Rose, Hugo, James, Albus, and Lily would be affected. They would question; and how would he respond to things like;

“Dad, why is Aunt Hermione having your baby?”

“Daddy, why aren't you living with mummy any more?”

She was fearful for him. His eldest son was sixteen, he wasn't stupid.

It was facing the Weasley's is what she feared the most. She was pregnant with Harry's baby. It was not going to go well.

“I love you,” he said weakly as she slid into his lap and threw her knees over his.

“I love you Harry, I love you so much…” she cried into his neck as he held her.

x-x-x-x-x

When he walked through his front door, he hadn't expected to see James waiting for him.

“Where were you, dad? Mum said you had to go out or something.” He asked as Harry opened the fridge and took out a bottle of water. “You look like hell,” he added.

Harry smiled weakly. “I'm fucked, James. Royally fucked.”

“What?” Said James, staring at his father with both concern and interest.

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you,” he muttered. “You're sixteen. You wouldn't understand.”

“Try me,” said James quietly.

Harry stared at his son. He was his own through and through, except for his eyes. He had hazel eyes, and was a mirror image of the original James Potter.

“What would you do,” he began carefully as he leaned on the countertop, “if I told you I was divorcing your mother because your Aunt Hermione is pregnant with my child?”

James let out a hollow laugh. “You're not serious, dad?”

Harry said nothing as James stared at him, mouth fallen open in shock.

“You've been cheating on mum with Aunt Hermione?” he whispered harshly.

He closed his eyes, “Yes,” he whispered, “I love her. You know I wouldn't have if I didn't.”
“I can't believe this,” he shouted, throwing his glass against the wall. “YOU'RE PATHETIC!”

“JAMES ORION POTTER-” Harry began heatedly, but he had already flown out of the room.

“Harry?”

“Ginny,” he said flatly.

“What's wrong with James? Is everything alright?”

“No,” he replied as he turned away from her.

He had to do it. He had to tell her the truth. It wouldn't matter to him after it was over. He needed his children in his life, but his marriage had been over for months. He knew it. Ginny knew it.

“I want a divorce,” he said simply.

“I know,” she responded, her voice as soft as his. “I want one too.”

“Hermione's pregnant,” he continued.

“Congratulations to her and-”

“It's mine.” He cut in sharply.

Ginny said nothing. All he heard was her sharp intake of breath.

“How long?” she asked finally.

Harry chanced a look over his shoulder. She was leaning against the counter, her red hair in disarray around her face. But she didn't look mad.

“Five years.”

“You love her, don't you?” said Ginny finally.

Harry nodded. “Ginny, it kills me to see her with Ron. It shouldn't. But it does…”

“I've been with Dean,” she blurted out, “for nearly two years.”

Harry laughed. “What the hell have we been doing to each other, Gin?”

“I don't know,” she responded, “you sodding bastard.”

“Bloody witch.”

“What is she going to do with Ron?”

“Beats the shit out of me.”

Ginny chuckled. “You know, he probably will try.”

“I know, Ginny. I know.”

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

By any means, their flat wasn't the most glamorous. He insisted it was temporary, until they were settled. In the past eight months, the dramatic change in their lifestyles was extremely evident. He had lost weight, and she was getting worried. James still wasn't talking to him, and even though he and Ginny had gone through their divorce smoothly, and talked it over with all three of their children as much as they could via correspondence, as two of them were still at Hogwarts.

Ultimately, the stress was hitting Harry hard. If he didn't have Lily, his beautiful, sweet little Lily, she was fearful. His little girl brought light into his life on days she could not. She didn't blame him; she missed her own Rose and Hugo, and was silently counting the days until her babies returned home from school.

She was anxious to welcome their baby. She knew it was a boy. She had found out once the healer confirmed her pregnancy. She never told Harry. He didn't want to know. She often wondered what their son would look like. Would he be like his James, and be a spitting image of his father? Or would he look like her? The questions were endless, and they were not ones that could be answered until their son made his entrance to the world.

x-x-x-x-x-x

They were in bed when her contractions had started, and it all seemed to go by in a blur. He remembered St. Mungos; how the healers rushed them to the Maternity ward, and placed Hermione in the best of care, under his discretion of course. He remembered being told to back away, while they prepared her for the birth, and her pleas for him to be at her side. He ignored the healers and allowed her to grasp his hand, allowed her fingernails to draw blood from his veins.

And then, he heard it.

The high pitched cries of his new baby boy, a sign of good things to come. He momentarily abandoned Hermione's side as she collapsed back into her pillows, exhausted. The healer placed a struggling bundle of blue blankets into his arms, and time seemed to stop around him. He slowly moved back the blankets, and instantly his son stopped moving, and emerald green eyes met emerald green eyes. He had jet black hair, and he imagined, looked exactly like he had as a child. Had his father felt like this when he was born? He had felt this way when James, Al, and Lily were born. His Lily. She was overjoyed at the prospect of another baby.

He snapped out of his trance and turned to Hermione, who had her eyes trained on him as he slowly approached her, their son had long stopped crying. He slowly lowered him into her arms, and she held him protectively to her chest.

They would have a steady stream of guests that day, and only one would matter to Harry, and he was sure it would stand out in his mind until the day he died; the day his youngest son was born, and the day father and first born were reunited, and never to be separated again.

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